“To—to see you, of course. I thought as we had been old friends, I would come and—and see you. You rather hurt me, Britton.”
“You canting, whining villain,” said Britton, “I will know what brought you here, or I will smash your head against the door-post.”
“Violent, Britton, still violent to poor Jacob Gray, who comes to do you good. You know, my dear Britton—”
“Just say that again,” cried Britton, “and I’ll—”
He tightened his grasp upon Gray, who had just breath sufficient to gasp out—
“Remember—my—confession! The gallows!”
Britton relaxed his hold, and a slight tremor passed over his frame as he said in a lower tone,—
“Jacob Gray, you must have something damnable to say or propose to me!”
“Not exactly, Britton. But I think there is danger abroad to us both!”
“Danger?”